A/N: I know that this isn't technically for the Fugitive, but since it's the same team I feel that it fits in this category. Maybe the category could be changed to The Fugitive and US Marshals?

Noah Newman's funeral takes place on an overcast Tuesday morning. The procession begins outside the county morgue and ends at the Rosehill Cemetery in Chicago. The four black cars go unnoticed amongst the heavy urban traffic flow, just another day in the city.

The news has long since forgotten about this dead federal officer; the death of John Royce made headlines. The morons at the State Department covered it up, refused to admit that their precious spy had murdered a US Marshal in cold blood. Nobody at the Chicago field office had expected any less.

The funeral is small. Newman never married and had no children. His mother is there, flew in from Arizona as soon as she got the call. His two sisters are there as well, the older one a lawyer from Atlanta and the youngest a cop in Phoenix. The team is there, of course, all of them. They wear black bands over their badges, mourning.

The weather turns chilly as the team stands in a line by the grave. Sam Gerard, Cosmo, Bobby Biggs, Savannah Cooper, even Catherine Walsh is there. Cosmo starts to cry during the funeral. So does Savannah. Gerard doesn't cry. He just stands there, staring at the coffin, thinking.

Why? Why did it have to be Newman? He was a good kid, he was smart and funny and good at his job. He wasn't some stupid cop trying to play hero, he was a good man who wanted to do the right thing. Out of all the people who might have died that day, including the man who should have, it had to be the innocent guy who walked into a death trap. It's always the good guys. It always has been and it always will be.

The preacher rambles on about Heaven and being a hero. Gerard stares at the windy graveyard and feels like kicking something. He remembers when they were after Richard Kimble, when some felon held a loaded Sigg to Newman's head. How he'd taken the guy down in one shot. And how afterwards, Newman had griped about Gerard's rash movement. And how Gerard's higher-ups had complained. And Gerard remembers what he told them.

I had to shoot him. He was going to shoot one of my kids. And in the end, one of his kids did get shot. This time, someone really did pull that trigger. Only this time, there was no one around to save him.

How could this happen? Gerard wonders. And why did it have to be the kid? His kid. It was always the ones who never deserve it.

The funeral ends. Fresh dirt is tossed onto the grave by a variety of shaking hands. Newman's mother weeps openly. So does his older sister. His youngest sister stand there, hands clasped behind her back, back straight. A cop's stance.

Afterwards, people mill about the graveyard. The team talks quietly amongst themselves.

Newman's older sister approaches Gerard. She introduces herself as Linda. She doesn't look like Noah, her dark hair and dark eyes must take after her father.

" You must be Sam Gerard." She says. He nods.

" Noah was a good kid." He offers.

" He loved his job." Linda says. " Whenever he came home, he would talk about the team." She pauses. " His team."

" He was a good agent." Gerard says. Linda nods.

" I know he was. He, uh, he really liked working here. He said it was the best thing that had ever happened to him." Linda hesitates. " Noah was kind of a troubled kid. When he was younger he hung out with some of the rougher groups at school. I always worried that he'd end up a criminal, but then he started working here and…"

" He was one of the good guys." Gerard promises her. Linda nods.

" I know he was. He had such a dangerous job, and he just…he just loved it. I always worried, though. I still do, about her." Linda nods towards the younger sister, standing at her mother's side.

Gerard nods.

" Noah was a great kid. Uh, man." He amends, though he knows that Newman will always be a 'kid' to him. " He was a good man."

Tears fill Linda's eyes.

" He was, Mr. Gerard. He was."

Gerard talks to Savannah a little. She's telling the team a story about one of their crazy escapades. Some narrow escape that she and Newman barely survived.

" Marshal Gerard?" Her voice is confident but quiet. He turns and sees the youngest Newman. He doesn't recall her name. Maybe she never introduced herself.

" I'm Sara. Um, Noah's sister." She says. Gerard shakes her hand.

" Noah was an excellent Marshal." Gerard tells her. Sarah nods. She has Noah's curly hair and blue eyes.

" He really respected you. He loved his job, more than anything." She puts her hands in her pockets.

" It showed." Gerard agrees.

" He called the team his second family. Whenever he came home, he'd tell me these stories about you guys. They were funny and sweet and…" She trails off.

" There are a lot of good Marshals out there, but Noah was something else." Gerard says.

" Noah talked about you a lot." She says it with a pained smile, as if imagining the animated conversations the two must have had. " He really respected you."

" The feeling was mutual." Gerard replies.

" You were his hero." Sarah tells him. Gerard feels the weight of the words pierce his heart in a way that no bullet ever could. He feel the need to say something back.

" You're a cop, right?" He asks. Sarah nods.

" Yeah, Phoenix Police Department. I wanted to make a difference." She blushes a little. " Like my brother, you know?"

" Oh, he made a difference all right." Gerard assures her. " He did more than enough for this city. This whole country, in fact."

" He wondered if he did enough." Sarah comments. Gerard's heart sinks.

Did Newman really wonder if he did enough? How could he, with all that he gave up for this job on a daily basis.

" He said once that he was the weakest link." Her voice is almost tearful.

" He wasn't." Sam argues at once. Sarah nods.

" I think that he realized that. I think that when he died, he knew that he was making a difference." Sarah's blonde hair falls across her face, shielding her eyes from view.

I think that he died scared and alone. Gerard thought. He remembers how he left the kid to go chase some goddam fugitive. Always chasing another fugitive. And then in the ambulance. He should have said something. Assured the kid he'd be alright. Promised him he'd be okay. He wouldn't have been. He was dying and he knew it.

" Marshal, do you think he died knowing he was doing something good?" Sarah asks. Gerard can't tell her the truth. She's a cop, she probably knows the horrors that occur, the gruesome death by bullet. But she wasn't there, she didn't see the blood pooling dark and crimson and she didn't see his eyes. The fear in his eyes when he knew that he was dying. And Gerard is glad. Nobody should have to see that.

" I think that he died knowing that he was one of the best US Marshals I've ever had the privilege to know."

The words strike a chord with her.

She nods. " I just needed to hear that from someone other than my mom." She hesitates. " Our dad died when I was six. Noah was sixteen. Back then, Noah was just some average kid who was kind of a troublemaker. Our dad never got to see what a good person he became."

Gerard feels awful.

" Well, your father would have been very proud of him." He promises her. Sarah smiles.

" I think that you were more of a father to Noah than our dad ever was." She admits.

" Your dad would have been proud of him. Anyone would have." Gerard chokes out, because he cant' bear the thought that he's learning all of this too late. It's not like he didn't like the kid, but he wishes he would have known. Why? He doesn't know. But you always find out people's biggest secrets when they're already dead.

" Noah was a good kid. He still is." Gerard doesn't know what else to say, so he adds,

" He'll always be a hero."

Sarah nods, and her eyes are shiny with unshed tears.

" I know, Marshal. I know."

Gerard rests his hand on her shoulder for a moment. Then he turns and walks away, back towards his team. They're talking about Newman.

" We should drink to him." Biggs pulls out a hip flask.

Savannah makes a strange cross between a choke and a laugh and says,

" That better be milk in there."

And they all chuckle sadly, because they're all going to miss Newman more than they know. Gerard knows, they all know, that they'll wake up tomorrow and go to work and wonder why he's not there. And they'll see his desk and his picture and the things that remind them of that young Marshal who died for no reason. And it will be the same the next day, and they day after that, and for a long time after his grave is covered in newly grown grass.

After a while, the pain will start to fade. But it will never go away.